


And So the Stars Danced for Us

by theotherpanda



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Collage, M/M, Student Eggsy, Teacher Harry, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:35:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotherpanda/pseuds/theotherpanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy is a student and Harry is his professor. Harry discovers that Eggsy is a quite author and tries to persuade Eggsy to act on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So the Stars Danced for Us

**Author's Note:**

> So Hartwin is a thing now… good! This happens to be my first fanfiction ever. Plus written in English. Yeah, you might figure that English is not my native language. So if there is somebody who would like to the beta-magic thing, let me know. Though I have to warn you that I am a student so I will want to know what I did wrong and why – so I will be your nightmare.  
> The story is set up in the USA, for reasons. OK, mostly I don’t have an idea how a university works in Britain, but through the many fanfiction I’ve read I have an idea how it works in the USA. Also, I know that British English is much more complicated than American English.

Harry Hart was, as the word had it, the professor with ice in his veins. The Ice King. Or from another source he was a participant in BDSM as a very sadistic dom. Or some kind of male witch that liked to bath in the blood of innocents. Since Harry started his teaching career those rumors become an inseparable part of the campus. Harry liked to believe he might be little hard to please but nothing that much unexpected from a college professor. He was certain that those rumors about his person were mostly from students who failed his course. Which happened to be a bigger number than other professors had. Harry just had principles and he wasn’t going to back down because some students just didn’t manage to read few books. Writing a comparative essay couldn’t be that hard after that, right?

Harry was currently walking down the corridor out of the building. As a teacher of British literature, Harry situated in building closest to the school library, just as other teachers of literature and languages. Across the street, where was the library was also a parking place now. Some not very smart person thought how a brilliant idea it is to have cars driving where students happened to find themselves walking with music blasting in their ears. Harry has to admit it actually wasn’t such a bad idea in theory. The library building was a square shape with a courtyard situated in. When students came through a big wooden door they actually weren’t in the library itself, they had to walk in the door by their left and then go the stairs up. He remembers when he was a student and tried to find a book for the first time. There is just one way and it leads its victims in circles. There are also tables for students so he had an audience when he went the second time the same route. After that he managed to find his way in there and become the audience itself. He was sure that even today the hell path gives some students a headache.

Harry’s car was his pride and baby, like Harry’s best friend like to point out. It was a beautiful example of British skills and art, an Austin Martin DB5. It was, truth be told, actually Harry’s father’s car. Harry’s father, Robert Hart, was a big James Bond fan and after a heart attack in his late forties, Harry inherited the car. Harry loved his father and he loved to drive his car. It made him feel somehow closer to his father.

After a short while, when Harry tried to locate his keys in his briefcase, he was finally allowed the opportunity to leave the campus. Don’t take him wrong, he loved this school and he loved his job. The students thought seemed to be in an alliance with the devil itself. Or at least they have an ongoing bet who will drive Harry insane first. When he walked today in his office it didn’t occur him to check his name on the door. I mean, who walks into their office with such though as to check the name on the door that should remain unchanged. Well, after the fifth time in one year that somebody liked to “improve” his name to something more “accurate”, one should anticipate it. Some students like to think that Harry Hard is a better name for him. It actually wasn’t that much, just one letter changed with an occasional drawn face, that Harry thought was supposed to be him and it was very easy to wash down. One time it was a very good caricature and Harry left it on the door for a whole week. But that was a thing that used to happen ten years ago and after while it stopped.

Though today, there wasn’t just a little change of his name and a face. Somebody did feel the need to change his name and leave an art piece behind. Especially today, when Harry had office hours. The first students didn’t feel like shearing the artificial change on his doors and just came in snickering. He learned about this sometime around the noon, when he came back from lunch. Right next to Harry Hard, a picture of a male erection. And it wasn’t ever done by the easily removed marker that students liked to use ten years ago. He had to call the janitor, who actually laughed right in front of Harry and then said that he will get rid of it by tomorrow. So when Harry walked out today the picture was still there.

The drive home was rather uneventful and Harry was welcomed by his dog Mr. Pickles, a Yorkshire Terrier. Despite his small build Mr. Pickles was a very protective and had an ability to bark very loudly when someone strange was lurking behind the doors. He also liked to bite people, not just strangers but never Harry. He found it somehow very amusing that this very small dog that couldn’t be more than ten pounds wet could scare people, especially his best friend Merlin. Even after all those years Harry always had to make sure that Mr. Pickles out in the garden when Merlin came in.

Since it was that time of the year, Harry went into the cellar and take a bottle with him. His mother hated when he drunk alcohol, though she said when he was getting drunk he should at least drink a proper alcohol, which was for her a good wine and so was for Harry. She insisted that he has a special place for his bottles and so Harry stored his wine down there. He paid attention to not take the better one since right now he just needed a help with examining the final papers. Today was the deadline for one of his courses and of course most students decided to drop it by today. Harry was sure it was one of them that drew that thing on his door. He wasn’t one of those professors that forced their students to interact with him, but he required a printed version of their paper. He also didn’t like to interact with students so he came up with a little box that students could drop their works.

Harry sat down in his chair and turned on his laptop, pouring himself a glass meanwhile. The day wasn’t over and there are always some students that send their paper in the last minute through an email. He put the laptop away and took the papers he brought with him. This particular course was just an Intro to British Literature and Harry believed he let students much more options about the topic their essays than he was supposed to. He taught British literature up to 1945, but he let students choose books for their works written till the 70’s. He took the red pen he had especially for this occasion, when else do people use a red pen?

The first works were as expected, dull, boring, written with hope he let them pass. If there was an original idea or at least he could tell that the student read the book, he usually let them pass with E. Harry hardly gave a better grade than C. Somewhere around 10 o’clock, after he received three more essays, he was somewhere near the end. Harry has finally approached the early submitted works. He realized that the good works are submitted somehow early, but of course not always. But it never happened to him that he had to fail a student the submitted the essay week early.

Harry had given in his carrier some A, but not much and he remembered every one of his students that received such a good grade. Right now he was reading such work and he didn’t recall the student that has written this. Harry had around thirty students in his Intro class and usually he didn’t bother with remembering students from Intro classes. Many of them didn’t continue to following courses. Gary Unwin, the student who deserved this year’s A, had written a comparative essay of characters. More precisely he compared Pygmalion’s Eliza Doolittle and Pretty Woman’s Vivian Ward. Though Pretty Woman can be hardly considered as a character from a British literature, Harry never specified details for this assignment, just that there has to be involved a book from British literature written sometime until 1970.

Harry reread the essay again and decided to do something he hardly done, never yet with a student from one of his Intro classes. He pulled the laptop closer to him and found a contact email address to Mr. Unwin. He send him an email, asking him to stop by his office as soon as he is available. He send him times when he would be in his office for the whole next week. He took the evil red pen and took Mr. Unwin’s work and started to do a little adjustments.

After 12 o’clock and a whole bottle of wine, he was finally finished. He send students their results and letting them know if they passed or if they failed. Harry headed to the bathroom and took a really short shower. He usually liked to spend time under the water and think of nothing but it was really late and after all the essays he had to go through he didn’t feel like doing anything else than go to bed and sleep forever. He came back in thoughts to Mr. Unwin, wondering when and if he will stop by. Harry truly liked his work and hoped that Mr. Unwin would consider his proposition.

\----

Eggsy was involuntarily woken up at 5 o’clock by his roommate who tried to get in with the door still closed. After the fifth attempt Eggsy get up from his bed and opened the door.

“Eggsy! M’man! Look out fo’ the door. They’r evil.” The last part was whispered and Martin looked at the door like they could hear him and hurt him in return.

Martin Brook wasn’t a bad roommate. Not really. But when he went out partying he tended to come back in the early morning and a stealth was not one of his strong features. Or in his vocabulary really.

“Of course man. Come on, let’s get you in a bed,” Eggsy tried to help his friend, but there was one more thing that happened to Martin when he was drunk. He always suddenly remembered that Eggsy likes boys too, and every time he thought that the only thing that Eggsy wants to do is have his way with him.

“Man, I told ya, ya’r hot and it’s flatrin’ that ya wanna, but ya’r not my type, too much penises.” Eggsy always admired that Martin somehow managed to get such long sentence out. Eggsy grabbed him by his shoulders and gave a sigh. This was a conversation that had between themselves so many times that Eggsy could write it down and just read it. Not that it had any meaning, since Martin tend to not to remember anything from his drunken state.

“And I told you, that you are not my type, too much alcohol,” Eggsy just managed to put his roommate on the bed.

“I am everybody’s type,” Martin said, looking as if Eggsy just killed his favorite puppy. And it is going to be one of those nights, Eggsy thought. Sometimes when his roommate was really drunk, he tried to prove Eggsy that he is everybody’s type and tried to drunkenly seduce Eggsy. Which was mostly Martin trying to get into Eggsy’ bed and molest him.  
Eggsy could tell if this is going to happen based just on the look that Martin had. If he looked to sleepy it meant that he would fall down and snore happily in a few minutes. Murdered puppy look meant that he still had some energy and that he is going to use it to change Eggsy’ mind. So Eggsy took the jeans he wore yesterday and took a T-shirt that looked clean. He pulled on socks and took his sneakers in really short time. He grabbed his hoodie that he had over his chair and took his bag with the laptop in it and added some textbooks he needed to look in anyway. He checked that he has his wallet and keys. By the time he was ready Martin only managed to look at him, all confused. And before he figured how the tongue works in the mouth, Eggsy had been already out.

Eggsy headed out to the library. It wouldn’t be opened yet, but there was a room for students that were looking for a quiet place to study at any time and Eggsy could hide there until his first lesson in 10 AM, in five hours. The library was about ten minutes from his dorm. The air was chill and it was still dark outside. It was December, but there wasn’t any snow and there won’t be. Not like back home where there was always the real white Christmas.

After the short walk, he was finally in the library building. There were already some students, or perhaps they were there for several days by the way they looked. Eggsy chosen a table far away in the corner and took out his laptop. He plug it in and turn it on. He had some reading he wanted to do and he wanted to check out the school network if there isn’t anything useful. As long as he was logged in school Wi-Fi he could look into any network that was otherwise not accessible to people who didn’t pay fees on those pages. So even though he was still a student when he was home, he couldn’t access these sites.

About two hours later, when he had enough material to keep himself occupied through the holidays, Eggsy checked his school email. He was, as any student, hoping for some class to be canceled. Instead of it, he received am email from a professor Hart, his British Lit teacher. Prof. Hart asked him to come by his office sometime this week. Eggsy tried to shake off the feeling that he failed, but he couldn’t help himself. He really worked hard writing that paper and was even proud of it and turned it in a week before the deadline. He heard that ‘The Ice King was hard to please’, yeah, that was actually a phrase now going around the campus. In the classes he looked detached. He obviously was interested in what he was talking about, but it looked like he doesn’t pay any attention to students. As if he didn’t care if they care.

He looked at the time. It was shortly after 7 AM. The professor mentioned in the email he will be there today around 9 AM. Eggsy would rather be done with this as soon as possible. If Prof. Hart wouldn’t take too long he could manage that. Eggsy had to go back to his class back to the dorms. Well, not actually to the dorms but the scientific department had a building right next to dorms and cafeteria. Smart bastards, and Eggsy was thankfully one of them. Speaking of the cafeteria, Eggsy’ stomach made sure to acknowledge itself in a very loud way. Eggsy looked apologetically at the other students that looked like they will end him, if he doesn’t stop doing it. He grabbed his wallet and walked to nearby machine. He chosen some energetic bar and tried to pretend that he is not there when it started doing some really fucked up noises. He wondered if a machine in a school institution could be at one time a part of a porno industry, because those noises were just like from an older porno movie. That Eggsy knew because, yeah, he knew sometimes some weird stuff and he might have done a porno research once or twice. God bless the internet.

He took the bar and seated himself back. He resisted the need to stretch himself, because he didn’t want those people to look at him anymore and took one of the textbooks he took with him.

\--

Harry woken up to the wet little tongue on his face. When Mr. Pickles wanted he could behave like a perfect gentleman. The thing is he has to want. In the mornings he hardly chosen so. A wet tongue it was then. Harry opened his eyes and looked at the big red numbers on his alarm clock. 7:22. He had to hurry up, if he wants to have his morning run. He pulled down the blanket, sit and put down Mr. Pickles. He reached for his glasses next to the alarm clock.

He was in the woods in twenty minutes with Mr. Pickles by his side. He let his dog run freely next to him, knowing that Mr. Pickles choose his gentleman mask whenever he was outside the house. Harry lived far away from the center and his neighbors preferred a quiet way to live. There were a few joggers in between them, but Mr. Pickles behaved whenever they met somebody.

\---

An hour later Eggsy could no longer pretend, there isn’t a bunch of students with him that need to be hosed down. The smell wasn’t that bad at the begging and he hoped he’ll get used to it eventually. He didn’t. He actually wanted to run far away and find a fairy land where he could hide from the gagging smell.  
Eggsy packed up and escaped the room. He decided that it is time for coffee, but scared of the smelly students he decided to retrieve and go to attack a coffee machine in the school building. He could sit somewhere close to the professor Hart office and wait for him there.

\--

Harry was late. In ten years of his teaching carrier Harry Hart was never late. He had enough time for his class, but he had to drop by his office and prepare materials for his students. This class had mostly just people who were actually interested in the topic. It was an advanced class so students knew how to write their essays. Harry put all the blame on Merlin, he was the one who introduced Harry the small portable device with music on it. Merlin insisted on Harry that he has to use it on his runs. So Harry did and he got into the running so much, that he forgot he has responsibilities.

It was 8:45 when Harry finally got out of his house. The way to the school was at least 20 minutes if he was lucky with the traffic. He was not, of course. He parked in the courtyard at 9:15. He still had fifteen minutes until his morning class, so that should be enough time to prepare materials for them.  
He came into the department’s building, up to the stairs, second floor, to the right. He already had the keys in his hand, but stopped a few steps from his door. He couldn’t believe it. The abomination was still there.

\--

Eggsy looked up from his position on the floor to the approaching steps. The professor was already late, but it didn’t smell in here, so Eggsy counted it as a win. He was going through the textbook, trying to figure what will be put in the test.

The man coming his way is really tall and thin. The suit doing him justice. Eggsy never really realized how attractive his professor is. He knew that his classmates liked to compare which teacher is hotter, but he never took a part in this, not wanted to objectify them. The men had messy hair, obviously running late. He wore rim glasses that just came back into the fashion. He was too far away, for Eggsy to determine his eye color. He was certainly older looking but he heard that professor Hart is just in his forties and he did look in shape. Always in the classes Eggsy couldn’t help himself but to look at him, there was just something about his face that draw you in.

\--

“Excuse me, Professor Hart.”

Harry was so distracted by the so-called art on his door, that he hadn’t even noticed the young man sitting on the floor next to his office. He was currently getting up and looking at Harry waiting for something.

“Can I help you with something?” Harry unlocked the door and open it, letting the man go through first.

“You send me an email to come by. Something about my essay.” He looked at Harry like he should know. Harry had read about thirty essays and he had written to all students to come by if they wanted to look at their works. They hardly choose to do so. Harry put his briefcase on the desk and offer with his hand the free chair opposite to his desk.

“Yes, Introduction to British Literature, mister…” Harry leaves it up the student to fill his name while he sits down himself.

“Eggsy,” he looked hopeful at Harry.

“I’m sorry Mr. Eggsy, I don’t recall reading an essay from you,” Harry took the briefcase and open it. He pulled out the essays and tried to look through them to make sure.

“Oh, no. Eggsy is my nickname. Gary Unwin is my name, sorry,” he looked apologetically at Harry for the misunderstanding.

“Ah, yes. The essay about Eliza Doolittle and Vivian Ward, here,” Harry said as he took the essay from the top and handed it to Mr. Unwin. He took it and his eyes went wide for a while.

“Wow, I see I failed hard here.”

“What? No, you have a solid A,” Harry didn’t understand how Mr. Unwin had missed the big red A on the title page.

Mr. Unwin looked at him unbelievably with his eyebrows raised.

“There is lots of red for an essay that aced,” Mr. Unwin pointed at one of the pages.

“I got slightly carried away last night. I hope you forgive me my boldness. I asked you here in a hope I could persuade you to publish your paper. Of course, there would have to be certain adjustments but mostly only because of the length. I have some acquaintances in few periodicals and I believe they would love to print your work,” Harry looked at him expectantly. He hadn’t yet called any of his friends, but he truly believed that Mr. Unwin’s essay would be easily published even without him pushing it through.

“What?” his eyebrows were still raised and his eyes went wide again. It seems that Harry is the first one to discover his talent.

“Would you like to have a cup of coffee, tea or water?” Harry got up from his chair to the electric kettle he had in the corner of the office next to the sink. He preferred tea, but he had coffee for the time that Merlin chose to come by.

“Coffee please, the machine is broken,” Mr. Unwin mumbled, still in shock from what Harry told him. He looked through his paper and obviously read very carefully what Harry had written. Harry prepared the mugs and waited for the water to get boiled. Meanwhile, he took the book he had from yesterday on his desk and went to the copying machine he had in office. When all was done, he approached his desk and put down Mr. Unwin’s mug. He didn’t have sugar in here. He neither Merlin liked to add it into their drinks. He seated himself and blew little to cool down his tea sooner.

Mr. Unwin was still going through his essay and Harry took this moment to study the young man in front of him. Mr. Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin was very handsome, that Harry had to admit. Stylish haircut, slightly longer just the front but brushed backwards. He has brownish hair with the sunlight they made illusion of being blond. His eyes were something between green and blue. He didn’t have massive eyebrows, but with the way he used them to express his emotions they were certainly a dominant element on his face. He had a scar across the left eyebrow. His nose seemed little crooked, but Harry couldn’t be sure. His face was broad but not an unattractive one, he also had stubble not older than a day, which made him look older. Harry couldn’t tell what his lips looked like, because he was biting them the whole time, but he was certain that they were beautiful like everything about this young man. His body also seemed in shape, though Harry noticed that he was shorter than himself. Not that would be something bad. Harry couldn’t believe where his thoughts led him. He never allowed himself to be attracted to one of his students. Not that it would be against the rules, but it was also against Harry’s moral code. He wasn’t a predator and he would not be seen as one.

“Your coffee is ready,” Harry announced to the boy to get his attention. Mr. Unwin looked up from his seat like he still didn’t believe what was going on.

“So, just to make sure that I understand what is going on, you want me to publish. My paper. In a real magazine. Where people could read it,” it was more a statement than a question, but he waited for an answer.

“Yes, just like you said, apart from the magazine part. It would be published in a periodical, but there is no essential difference between those two,” Harry said taking a first sip of his tea.

The young man still looked somehow spooked out so Harry decided to give him a way out.

“Of course you don’t have to answer right away, but I would like to have your answer before the holidays. If you agree, then we would have to meet to go over your work and look where you can make it shorter without losing something important. You can take the essay with you and think about it, but I will need you to give it back in case you wouldn’t like to follow through.”

“But, I don’t study literature. Shouldn’t chance like this go to someone from here?”

“You don’t study literature?” Harry was truly surprised. After he started teaching students barely took his courses if they didn’t have to.

“I study science. See, you approached the wrong person here. I mean it feels good to be chosen like this, but I’m not the right person for this,” he was already getting up from his chair putting his paper down on the desk, trying to get away.

“Wait Mr. Unwin,” Harry got up to set his mug down and took the paper.

“Take the paper with you and think about it. What you study doesn’t matter. I’m not taking opportunities from students from this department. I do think that your paper deserves more attention. Just think about it,” he caught up with Mr. Unwin by the door and hold out the paper for him. The young man just looked at it, took it, open the door and run away.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry there will be a next chapter. I'm just not sure when. I still have exams coming up.


End file.
